


Dragon Keeping

by imaginary_golux



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 23:15:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3429128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginary_golux/pseuds/imaginary_golux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Golden Oldies Porn Battle, prompt: Charlie Weasley/Draco Malfoy, straps, glint.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dragon Keeping

Charlie’s hair glints in the candlelight, and Draco cannot help but pull at the straps around his wrists – he wants to _touch_ , to sink his fingers into that shining hair and pull Charlie down and make him put his mouth where Draco wants it, instead of these endless teasing kisses along Draco’s ribs, half-tickling and never biting. Charlie laughs when Draco squirms.

“We learn good knots in Romania, little dragon,” he says, and laughs again when Draco whines. “You know what you need to do.”

Draco _does_ , that’s the worst of it, but Malfoys don’t beg: they order, they command, they suggest subtly with a threat behind it…and none of that is going to do him any good whatsoever, he knows from long experience.

Charlie shifts to kiss his way down the arch of another rib, and Draco’s patience – never strong at the best of times – snaps entirely.

“ _Please_ ,” he says, and Charlie looks up at him with a smile full of teeth and says, “Please _what_ , little dragon?”

“Please _suck me_ ,” Draco says plaintively.

“But of course,” Charlie says, and he is _smirking_ , the bastard, but then his mouth is hot and wet and glorious just where Draco wants it most, and Draco bucks up into Charlie’s firm grip on his hips – oh, that will leave bruises, dark against his pale skin, and every time he sees them he’ll remember, Merlin yes – and moans long and loud and shameless.

And then Charlie is pulling away, is smirking up at him again, and Draco whimpers and bucks his hips up again. Charlie laughs. “Eager little dragon,” he says quietly, and his voice is hoarse and hungry, and he may call Draco a dragon but Draco know who the predator is in this bed, and it isn’t him, tied up and whining and helpless under Charlie’s hands. “You know what’s next,” Charlie murmurs, and Draco nods, takes a deep breath, manages to find the words.

“Please fuck me, Charlie,” he says, and Charlie smiles that toothy smile again and takes his hands from Draco’s hips. Draco spreads his legs and bends his knees and tilts his hips up, offering everything, and Charlie’s grin gets wider.

“Good little dragon,” he murmurs, and a murmured spell slicks his fingers before he slides them in. Draco opens for him easily – it’s not as though he hasn’t got any practice, after all – and he whines and begs as Charlie twists his fingers, spreads them wide. Charlie’s fingers are thick and blunt and well-kept, capable of immense gentleness, and long enough to reach where Draco really wants them – but today he is avoiding that spot, teasing Draco with long slow thrusts which are not nearly enough.

“ _Please!_ ” Draco cries, and Charlie nods and places a gentle kiss on the curve of Draco’s knee, and pulls his fingers out. He replaces them with his cock, harder and hotter and thicker by far than two blunt fingers, and Draco shouts, the sound echoing from the stone walls. Charlie growls.

“Good little dragon,” he says again, and reaches up to wraps his hands around Draco’s wrists where the straps are tied, and thrusts in hard. Draco pretends to struggle, bucking up against Charlie to feel the heavy warmth of him, the strength in his fingers as he grips Draco’s wrists, the growl reverberating from his chest. It’s good – it’s always good. There’s a reason Draco keeps coming back to this tiny stone house in the middle of fuck-all-nowhere Romania, to this fire-haired dragon keeper with his shining white teeth and his penchant for leather, and this is it, right here, this delicious helplessness, tied down and pinned down and fucked open, wandless, wordless with pleasure: _this_ is what Draco wants.

“Come for me, little dragon,” Charlie murmurs in his ear, and Draco wails and obeys, feeling Charlie buck against him and come hot and wet inside him. Charlie sags heavily on top of him for a moment, and Draco relaxes under the weight and warmth of his lover, breathes deep and slow and hooks his legs around Charlie’s to hold him there for a minute longer.

“Good little dragon,” Charlie whispers into the dark space between them. “My good little dragon.”

Draco smiles.


End file.
